(Untitled)

[outta_texas]

Tyra wakes up suddenly, when someone else goes out of the room and lets the door slam. There's a moment of utter disorientation where she doesn't know where she is, or what happened, and she hurts, and then she relaxes back into the familiar feeling of Tim curled up behind her, his arm around her waist.

A fuckin' islandWell, girl...you always did

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[texas_forever]

The slam of the door isn't quite loud enough to wake Tim, but he does grumble softly when he hears his name, his arm tightening instinctively around the warm pressed against him.

And, then he realizes it's not Billy calling him and the warmth he's wrapped around isn't a pillow and his eyes snap open as he pulls back, his arm lifting.

Just friends, Tim.

"Hmm?" he finally grunts as he runs his hand through his hair, blinking blearily.

[outta_texas]

Tyra actually feels the loss of the weight of his arm around her and she threads her fingers with his to tug it back for a few minutes. She figures she'll have that conversation with herself later, remind herself of what an asshole Tim is later.

"Nothin'," she says, softly, mindful of the other people sleeping around them. "We can't stay here all mornin'."

[texas_forever]

"Mmm," he replies again because Tim really isn't the most eloquent people on a normal basis, much less when he's just woken up.

Taking in a slow breath, he pushes himself up onto one elbow, his free hand rubbing his eye. "Yeah. Probably some breakfast in the kitchen." Because there always is. It's one of the perks of the place.

[outta_texas]

Rolling onto her back, Tyra looks up at Tim, her hair hanging in her eyes.

"Breakfast might be good. Also, much as I love these clothes you found me, they ain't goin' to last another day."